Random Access Memory 01 Brainchild
by Non-Halcyon
Summary: Those who vanish are not easily forgotten. This is Random Access Memory 01.
1. Chapter 01: Red Tape

A greasy rain was falling from the dirty sky and the stars were obscured by the powerful glare of artificial lighting. Red and blue lights of police cars flashed in the dirty streets of a Nihama entertainment district. Garish neon signs flashed on and off, some were sparking and flickering in the steady drizzle. Officers were clustered around a smaller back alley, already working to pull yellow warning tape across the entrance. With the mournful howls of police sirens and the background chatter over their cybercoms, they failed to notice a black car pulling slowly up alongside them.

"Section Nine. Give me a detailed report of what went down here."

Several officers started and spun around, their captain approached the tinted windows and saluted. "Sir, the crime scene is secure. All suspects have successfully eluded arrest and we are left with minimal incriminating evidence."

"You don't say," came the sarcastic response. "I guess you've even widened your search net to try and salvage what little pride you guys have left?"

The captain remained at attention, his helmet obscuring his clenched jaw. "Search parameters remain unchanged for now, there was no evidence of additional suspects." He hesitated before adding, "Sir."

"Still looking for same old guys? Well good luck with that! File a detailed report to my superior and in the meanwhile, clear this place up, get a forensics team in there and bag a sample of everything you can find. If you think you can find anything with your helmets strapped on that tight."

"Yes Sir, we've already-"

With a screech of wheel-spin, the car accelerated down the narrow alley, throwing its rear end out into the brightly lit main street. Various window displays flashed past as the car sped down the road and and joined the busy expressway. For a moment, no-one spoke. The only sounds were the steady rumble of the tarmac and the barely audible thrum of the engine. The man in the passenger seat released his death-grip on the door handle and turned to the driver.

"Seriously Boss-man, did you have to be so tough with them? They're only doing their jobs you know."

The driver's eyes didn't register that he had heard the comment. In fact, the eyes of this particular man seldom registered anything, merely reflecting whatever he looked at. He responded in a gruff voice. "Look buddy, I'm not suddenly going to take pity on those morons until they start doing their damn jobs properly. We're not going to corner these sons of bitches with those posers running around sticking red tape over everything!" He swerved off the expressway as he said this, veering onto a slipway and heading for downtown. "Besides, weren't you one of them once? Doesn't it piss you off to see how much they dance around playing super police?"

Togusa sighed and rolled his eyes. "I was a detective, not one of those guys. Sure I dealt with their cases but I never got down to their level. Don't go comparing me with them." His lip twitched. "Or the Major will chew you out again big guy."

"I can handle the she-ape's wrath, don't you worry."

Togusa covered his eyes with his hand and sighed again. "Not the reaction I'd hoped for Batou."

Their car approached a huge skyscraper, the upper reaches of which were invisible in the rain, which had increased to a steady downpour. They rolled swiftly down the entance ramp into the car lot. Togusa watched with an air of detached interest as Batou carefully selected a parking space and nonchalantly double parked, blocking in someone else's car. His.

"Oh real nice Batou, you think because you're having a bad day we should all stay here and comfort you? I have kids at home you know."

Batou turned to look at him, an expression of mock confusion on his face, before relaxing and favouring his colleague with a goofy grin. "You're the one who said I had some grilling to look foward to from the Major right? At least now, you'll have the honour of burning right next to me." Batou swung his heavy legs out of the car and stretched. "Damn government issue models. Crammed with the latest tracking software but completely devoid of leg room. Next time you can drive buddy."

Moments later they were in an elevator, rushing towards the upper floors where the conference room was located. At certain intervals the elevator would emerge on the outside of the building, flashing a night-time vista streaked with raindrops, which blurred and fragmented the various lights of the city. Rain pummelled the glass windows, cutting off abruptly as the elevator retreated back inside the building.

Togusa stood in silence, staring blankly at the floor. "Something up big guy? You don't seem your usual self today." He looked up at Batou. "It's not like you to lose your cool over something as trivial as the cops."

The doors opened and Batou stepped out, heading towards the meeting room. "Don't worry about it." he said. "Let's see what the old ape has for us this time."

With a buzz of static and white-noise, the visual feed from the crime scene expanded into the minds of the people assembled in the conference room. It was taken from the eye-view of a low-ranking policeman who had stumbled onto the scene during his daily patrol. They beheld a sparsely furnished room; a simple concrete block with nothing much inside. A voice echoed through their heads.

_We've managed to ascertain that this was indeed a back-street hideaway. It most likely functioned as an illegal cyberisation chop-shop for the local mob, unfortunately the room's little more than a cell now; they'd obviously moved out before they were discovered._

Batou was slouched in his usual chair, gazing idly at the ceiling. His large arms were thrown over the back of his seat and he tapped his left leg irritably. "So we got nothing this time. What a surprise! Anyone else having deja vu here? This is one big dead-end for us."

Seated opposite the heavy-set cyborg was a woman, who sensing the antagonism in Batou's voice, sat up. She fixed Batou with a stare from under her thick bangs of dark hair. "Pay attention Batou, don't let your disdain for the regular police spill over into this meeting. Let Ishikawa finish."

Scowling, Batou returned his gaze to the ceiling, while the older man who had been interupted shifted a little in his seat and continued.

_On first inspection, this room betrays nothing. It's nearly identical to other facilities we've stumbled across. We're only able to identify what equipment they had running here due to the holes they drilled for power and waste disposal._ An inventory began to scroll slowly across everyone's eye view, detailing various pieces of machinery.

The woman leaned fowards slightly with her hands poised beneath her chin, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. "So what do we have now that we didn't have before? Was something else left behind?"

Ishikawa nodded. "Yeah, there was something we found that gives us a lead. Something refreshing for you Batou." he cocked his head at the larger man. "Material evidence"

Suddenly interested, Batou fixed his attention back on the briefing. "What, like a weapon?"

This time it was Ishikawa who covered his eyes with his gnarled hands. "Always with the weapons! It's something far more interesting than that!" He looked back up at everyone, rubbing his hand through a scrubby brown beard. "Residue."

"Residue?" came an older voice from a high-backed black chair at the head of the room. "Please explain yourself more clearly."

"Yessir. We're the first ones to have access to this information, but we dispatched some techs to check out the scene in greater detail, given the police's tendency to run off without conducting a thorough examination. What our techs found was something that the police hadn't even noticed, or to be more accurate, had literally stepped in."

A small section of the floor was enlarged and as the details were smoothed out and brought up to resolution, Batou frowned as much as his cybernetically enhanced eyes would allow him to. "A puddle?"

"Not just any puddle. The cops assumed this was from a leak in the water main and tramped right through it. So much for our crime-scene." He paused, and glanced at the woman in front of him. "It's brain fluid, to be more specific, it's artifical brain fluid used in the cyberisation process."

The woman known as 'The Major' spoke to the room at large. "Someone has just dropped a piece of incriminating evidence into our lap?"

Togusa nodded in agreement. "You've got to admit, it's fishy. Surely if they'd cleared out already, they'd have been a bit more thorough with their clean-up? We shouldn't take this on surface value Boss."

The chair swivelled around, revealing Chief Aramaki. He addressed them in his customary authoritative tone, his hands were steepled in front of him and his wrinkled eyes flicked from person to person. "Naturally, anyone on first inspection would assume this residue to be that of a criminal who had undergone some unspecified illegal modification of his cyberbrain. That's enough for the police at any rate." He gestured towards the Major with a finger and continued. "What discounts this theory is that the residue was found to contain genetic material which doesn't match with anyone in our current criminal database."

Batou raised his hands and exasperation laced his voice. "So why's it so important? If it doesn't match up with any lowlife we haven't bagged yet then how does it help us? Waste of time!"

Togusa glanced at Batou out of the corner of his eye. The cyborg seemed even even more... impatient than usual. Batou looked back at him and he quickly blinked, averting his gaze.

Frowning sternly at Batou, Aramaki toggled the main viewer on. "I said that it didn't match any known _criminal_ profile, I never stated that it matched _no-one's_ profile. Observe." The assembled team turned to look at the display, as countless faces flashed and blurred before halting on one person. It was a young girl.

"This girl went missing one month before we discovered our illegal clinic. Police had conducted preliminary investigations to establish any possible motives for kidnap but immediately discounted them due to this girl's virtual anonymity, as well as that of her family, who aren't wealthy enough for ransom, nor powerful enough to influence anyone politically. She is unremarkable in that she has no cybernetic implants, lacking even a basic e-brain. The trail went cold immediately and the girl was listed as dead. Until now, we haven't seen any sign of her. Ishikawa, continue if you please."

Ishikawa rose slowly to his feet, his knees audibly groaning from days of non-stop net-diving. He entered a few select commands into a recessed keypad, changing the display to show various genetic records. "Our missing girl has just re-appeared, in the form of that residue. We tested some and the results were 98 percent conclusive. It matches her DNA, leaving us to look at a more sinister picture."

The Major looked grim and spoke with obvious distaste. "Such as how the contents of the girl's head ended up on the floor. Considering what the room was used for, I assume partial or complete installation of a cyberbrain?

"It's likely yes," said Aramaki. "As for motive, we're no better off than the police are." He rose to leave. "This meeting is concluded for now. Major, I'm leaving the investigation to you. Pick your team and get started." He gathered up a few papers and walked from the room.

Standing, Major Motoko Kusanagi began issuing her orders. "Ishikawa, I want you to begin digging. Start searching for any and all instances of forced cyberisation, coupled with instances of kidnap and, if necessary, don't hesitate to snoop on the police department's files. If they have any additional information we'll need it."

"Roger."

"Togusa, you're with Batou. Go back to the crime scene and branch out from there. Assess the current mob layout and see if anything grabs you."

Togusa nodded and motioned to leave, but Batou remained seated.

"Boss-man? You still in real-time?" Togusa quipped.

Batou gave him with a blank stare, got to his feet and moved for the door. On passing the Major, he paused for a moment, before disappearing out into the corridor. Togusa began to follow but the Major pulled him aside.

"Togusa, I want you to monitor Batou. Don't say anything for now, but note when his behaviour changes and report back to me. Say nothing to the others, and don't let him know that you're watching. I know it always seems to be you that we ask, but there's a good reason. He trusts you, regardless of how he acts. It's unlikely that he'll lie outright, even if he chooses not to mention every little detail."

"Understood. Uh, Major?"

She turned with a questioning look in her ruby eyes.

"Mind if I ask what's going on? You seem clued up on something that the rest of us aren't."

She shook her head and spoke softly. "Nothing big, just old memories of a bad place."


	2. Chapter 02: Jungle Run

It looked like a small country had gone to war. The Red Sun Investor's Club was completely trashed; chairs hurled through windows, puddles of blood and liquor running together and bodies everywhere. Some of them were still twitching or cradling smashed limbs. In the midst of this destruction was Togusa; crouched behind a pillar with his hands clasped protectively over his head. "She said ASSESS the current mob layout!" he yelled, "You've gone and wiped them out!"

Batou turned and looked as innocent as it was possible to look while holding a semi-automatic machine gun in one hand and a bleeding mob boss in the other. This was the third hideout they had visited on what Batou tenuously called his 'gut feeling' and Togusa had the horrible feeling that there would be even more surprise visits before the day was out. He just thanked heaven that they were in plain clothes or Aramaki would tear them to pieces when they got back.

Completely oblivious to his partner's anger, Batou released the man he was throttling, letting him slide into unconsciousness on the filthy floor. "Hey, ya said you wanted verbal negotiation right? Well somewhere in the middle I had to switch to a language these dumbasses would understand!" He dropped his smoking gun to the ground and smiled ruefully. "Nothing like getting straight to the point, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Togusa shook splinters of glass from his hair and climbed shakily to his feet. "I'm going to retire... do something peaceful without gun-toting, trigger-happy psychotic cyborgs... Ungh!" He grunted as he rolled over a corpse and searched for the input jacks at the nape of the man's neck. Plugging himself in, he began trawling the man's cyberbrain for anything which would justify Batou's 'negotiations'.

"Gee guess what?" Togusa remarked, "Nothing in this guy's head but alcohol and pornography!" He rolled his eyes in Batou's direction. "Boss-man, have you had enough fun for today or is there anywhere else you'd like to blow up?"

Batou hesitated for a moment before venturing an answer. "There _is_ one place I want to check out. It's kinda grim though, so if you're not feeling up to it I'll cover it on my own."

Batou's sudden change of tone shook Togusa awake. This may have been what the Major meant when she ordered him to watch over Batou! It was vital that he stuck with him, even if it meant getting perforated again. Covering this realisation, he flashed a grin. "I'll cover you big-guy. I guess someone has to do it."

"Then let's do this thing." Batou raised a hand as he walked from the devastated room, broken glass crunching underfoot. "Don't blame me if your fragile mind gets burnt out though."

* * *

In keeping with the nature of their operation, Batou had gleefully opted to use one of his own cars instead of the sleek, dark and (much to Togusa's appreciation) bullet-proof Section 9 models. Batou's attitude to cars was the same as his attitude to his own body. If it gets broken, buy new parts or if necessary, an entirely new model. Togusa supposed that was what being a full cyborg did to your mind. It also manifested in his driving style, which Togusa ranked somewhere between insane and death-defying. Batou's 'pure love of machines' would get him killed one day.

_Togusa? _Major Kusanagi's voice echoed inside his head.

Snapping out of his reverie, Togusa shifted in his seat and coughed to cover his surprise. _Major!_

_Respond to me on this frequency and don't visibly react to what I tell you. Understood?_

_Roger._ He glanced at Batou, who seemed to be completely focused on the road ahead. _We've been ah, staking out some yakuza hang-outs. No-one came back to the crime scene so we thought we'd do something productive in the meantime._

_Staking out? _Despite their method of communication, Togusa could tell that the Major wasn't convinced. Not one bit. _Togusa, you do realise I've been watching you all this time?_

_Watching me? But ho-_

The Major's voice sounded almost smug. _I had Borma whip up a ghost-key and borrowed your eyes of course! You know, ducking behind a pillar while Batou does the grunt work may seem like the safest option, but I did ask you to monitor his behaviour. How'd you manage that with your hands over your eyes? _He could tell that she was smiling wryly as she spoke.

Togusa's voice became indigant. _Hey! For starters, I don't like you using my ghost-key without permission! Besides, I swear on my life he was just the usual Batou in there. At least I managed to survive that bloodbath or you wouldn't have anyone to report back to you!_

_Fair point. _conceded the Major. _Anything out of the ordinary you'd like to report?_

Checking Batou again, Togusa spoke carefully. _Up until now I thought we were spinning our wheels but I think we're onto something. The big-guy mentioned another place he wants to check out and I don't think it's the average crime den. He hasn't filled me in yet._

There was a moment of silence and the Major spoke, sounding slightly concerned. _What's your current location?_

_The old seaside road. Heading for the warehouse district. _Togusa made an exasperated noise._ Can't give you an exact fix because the clunker we're in doesn't even have a GPS._

_Don't ask him too many questions, just cover his ass and pull him back if things get out of hand. I mean it Togusa, don't let him lose control like the last time. I'm alerting the Chief so hang tight!_

_Major! Wait! MAJOR! _Too late, she was already gone.

A sense of urgency began to flood Togusa's mind; a slight panicked sensation that started his stomach churning. What was about to happen? If it had spurred the Major into action then he knew it wasn't going to be a picnic. The more he thought about Batou's actions this evening, the more he realised that there was little method to the madness. He'd originally thought that Batou was aiming to intimidate his targets, spreading fear throughout the underworld. Togusa felt shame at only just understanding what was going on; Batou was back in the jungle.

* * *

Batou slowed down as they entered the warehouse district. He drove carefully, avoiding any pot-hole or piece of garbage that would betray their presence. To further cover their approach, he'd even killed the car's headlights. Togusa would never have been able to navigate when it was this dark, however Batou's mechanical eyes were able to pierce the gloom like a cat's. It was a maze of disused, rusting sheet metal and barbed wire, bars across every window and warning signs in every foreign language imaginable; a vast lingering reminder of the economic boom which had turned Japan into a global industrial superpower.

"We're here." Batou said, his comic facade gone. He turned off the engine and faced Togusa, his face deadly serious. "Stay sharp. Section 9 leaves this place well alone. Hell, even the Major doesn't have any pull down here." Opening the car door and getting out, he poked his head back inside. "You sure you're with me on this?"

Togusa merely nodded. He remained seated until after Batou had exited the car, knowing full well that if he stood too soon he would stumble. Trying to gather his wits he slowly pulled himself out of his seat. "Let's go."

Their approach was a convoluted one, much like an infiltration op. Batou took point and they staggered their approach, covering each other as they traversed the shadowed, empty spaces between warehouses. Finally, they arrived at a steel door that appeared to be much newer than the others. One look told Togusa that he'd never be able to pick these locks, nor would Batou be able to strong-arm the door open. Someone didn't want visitors.

Batou tapped the side of his head, indicating that he wanted to speak via encrypted cybercom. Togusa engaged his own. _What now? A gunshot will echo from here to HQ!_ He jerked his head towards the door. _Not to mention the people inside._

_Don't worry about it. I know a few back doors._ He gestured upwards and Togusa followed where he was pointing. A ventilation duct.

Togusa looked between the small opening and Batou for a few seconds. _Uh Batou? You'll never fit through there! I mean I think that I'd just barely be able to climb through the-_ Togusa's mind clicked. He looked at Batou with an expression of outrage and horror. _I'm going in ALONE?_

_Only for a few minutes. Haul your rear through there, drop down, open up the door and let me through. _He produced a small firearm. _Or I could always shoot out the locks one-by-one... but then people'd hear us right? _Batou shot him an insane grin.

_I hate you._ Togusa shifted the concealed holster around to his front for easy access, although he hoped he wouldn't need to shoot anything. Or anyone. _I'll call if I can't open it._ That said, Togusa shrugged off his tan jacket and threw it at Batou's head, who neatly fielded it and bundled it under his arm. _Help me up there. If I'm going to be crawling around like a bug then at least make yourself useful!_

Batou shrugged and picked Togusa up as if he weighed nothing, placing him bodily onto his ample shoulders. Within moments, Togusa was worming his way through the narrow shaft, his black rollneck snagging at every opportunity. His wife was not going to be pleased. The heat instantly began to rise as he squirmed through the tight space. Sweating slightly, he craned his neck to search for any openings. It was utterly dark so there was no choice but to keep on moving. Togusa swore that his pounding heart was making even more noise than he was, booming through the entire ventilation system. A further ten minutes elapsed in the muffled darkness, until suddenly he saw light glancing up through a flimsy metal grill.

_I've found a way inside Boss. Hang on a moment while I scope it out. _Togusa crammed his arms to his sides and forced them up past his head. He slid his fingers through the mesh and gently pulled upwards, wincing as it came free with a sharp metallic SPANG! Cursing to himself, he dropped his head slightly through the gap before struggling out and lowering himself to the ground. The moment he found his feet, he ripped his Mateba from its holster and hunkered down against the wall, waiting for an alarm or a cry. Something. Anything!

Nothing. Togusa had dropped down into a deserted and completely straight corridor. The perfect shooting alley.

Reaching the locked door, he studied it for a moment. It wasn't even a coded lock! No security, no alarms either, just a simple catch that could only be opened from the inside. Unlocking it, he palmed the door outwards. To his disgust, Batou was sitting on an empty oil drum, casually smoking a cigarette.

_So it was a false front?_ Batou snapped the cigarette in two and flicked it away. He even had the nerve to stand up and stretch, as if waking up from a long nap. Togusa wondered what Batou had been thinking while he was inside. It was so damn hard to tell when you couldn't even see a man's eyes. Batou was also capable of freezing his facial muscles; a trick which worked well for interrogations and interviews but it also denied him a sense of humanity. For now, Togusa was going on instinct, and instinct told him that regardless of expression, Batou was worried. So worried that he was hiding it by goofing around.

_Good job._ Batou assumed the lead and glanced down the corridor. It was illuminated by a few cheap electric lamps, some of which were cracked and flickering. At the far end of the corridor was a sharp ninety-degree corner and from what they could see, there were no more lights after that. They advanced side by side, weapons trained on the dark corner ahead. If anyone came around that corner, they would drop.

Finally reaching the corner, Togusa knelt and risked a quick glance around it. Batou impatiently knudged him in the back with his knee. Togusa raised his hand; a quick clenched fist, followed by an index finger, then a half-raised middle finger and finally a broad sweep fowards. Batou nodded and grinned despite the increasing tension. A little while ago, Batou had taught Togusa some hand-signs from his old Ranger days. The meaning: _No enemy targets, Togusa first and Batou crouched second. No obstructions ahead._

Counting down from three, they both rounded the corner and moved quickly. The second span of corridor led to an office; a grubby desk with a dilapidated chair. Behind it was a panoramic window, covered with strip blinds. The blinds were shut but noise could be heard from beyond and a dim light filtered between tiny gaps.

Leaving Togusa to cover the doorway, Batou swiftly sidled up to the window and carefully opened a gap in the blinds. He studied the scene beyond for a moment and then froze. His breathing stopped and his hand wrapped fiercely around the grip of his gun, clutching it so hard that it could snap at any moment. Abandoning his post, Togusa joined Batou and peered through the gap. As his brain interpreted what he was in fact seeing, a sick feeling of shock rose up his body. The bitter taste of bile mixed with acid adrenaline threatened to overide all sense of restraint. Next to him, Batou's skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat.

_How could they do this?! It's beyond perverse! _Batou whirled on Togusa, his teeth clenched and his temple throbbing madly. _The sick pricks are selling children!_


	3. Chapter 03: Snow Angel

Saito narrowed his one remaining eye and scowled in disgust as the visual data from Togusa's eyeview played itself out. Leaning against the far wall, Pazu uttered a strangled sound and involuntarily clenched his fists. The scene was such that even the most thorough screening couldn't separate the emotional output from the rational. Even Chief Aramaki was hooked into the feed, constantly flicking his pen on and off as if it were a weapon just itching to be fired.

The technicians had extracted the memories of the reconaissance operation from the cyberbrains of both Batou and Togusa. Batou's output had been unusable; every second or so the image would distort, breaking down into static and reforming with random images flashing this way and that. Togusa's was also shaky, his anger and dismay were potent but not so out of control as to render his account invalid.

The Major viewed the footage without comment, silently watching as young girls and boys were herded across a concrete platform. Seated all around were men who followed the frightened movements of the youngsters with a hungry look in their eyes. Some were on their feet, shouting and frantically waving flimsy cards with numbers scribbled on them. A fat man was up on the stage, poking and swiping his way through the small crowd of children with what appeared to be an electric cattle-prod, spearing the backs of those who looked like they were contemplating escape. The sweaty man grinned as he picked on a small girl who had collapsed from the shock, repeatedly jabbing her and yelling at her to stand up, before knocking her legs from under her and repeating the whole process all over again. His thick, rubbery lips were stretched with what could only be described as a disgustingly ecstatic smile.

The image cut out abruptly as a red warning flashed across their eyeview, informing them that the subsequent footage had been deemed too dangerous to relive a second time. Visors were ripped off and flung away. Pazu's actually snapped in two as it smacked into the polished floor of the briefing room. Aramaki put his head in his hands and slumped fowards, physically exhausted from the intense emotional fluctuations. A thin trickle of sweat traced its way slowly down the side of his face and he grunted, his small eyes screwed shut.

Pazu broke the shocked silence. "What're... what the _hell_ are they using them for!?" He tried to light a cigarette but couldn't steady his hands enough to light it, and scorched his fingers instead. "I've seen some sick shit before but never anything like that!" Saito nodded in agreement but couldn't muster the control necessary for an articulate response.

Wiping his now shining forehead with a delicate handkerchief, Aramaki stood up and began to slowly walk around the room, addressing them in a voice that was strained with false calm. "There is no need for me to reiterate the findings shown in that footage. This is a humanitarian disaster and had we been aware of it before, the Police would have stormed the place the instant they caught wind of it."

The Major, who had also stood up, spoke in a quiet and thoughtful tone. "Do we want them to notice? Right now, Section 9 is the only official organisation with information on this criminal gathering correct?

"What are you getting at Major?" Aramaki asked. He turned and sat back down in his seat, regarding her with an interested expression.

"Take a look at this. I noticed something towards the end." Noting the sudden shift in the room, she added, "There's no need to experience it again. Just watch a few seconds on the main viewer."

They watched a frame-by-frame playback of footage. The Major put it on loop and turned to the group. "See anything familiar?"

Saito leaned fowards, his expert eye scrutinizing the short scene. "I see the faces of multiple criminals who are, as of yet, unaccounted for. That's what you're getting at?"

Pazu started as the video played again. "No wait, it's something else!" He looked on for a few moments and then froze the screen. The crowd of minors slowed to a complete standstill and, as their facial features were smoothed out by the computer, he jabbed his finger. "I've seen her before!" Aramaki keyed in a few commands and a girl's petrified face enlarged to fill the screen.

"Really?" said the Major, "It's the girl from the chop-shop we found a few days ago. We now have a link and more than enough grounds to infiltrate their little 'party', particularly when Batou and Togusa's recon was originally unsanctioned." At this point she paused and looked over at Pazu. "How much were you briefed concerning the chop-shop?"

"I wasn't," Pazu muttered, "I had the feeling I missed something and got Ishikawa to show me." He slouched back against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I wasn't under the impression it was need-to-know or I wouldn't have asked."

The Major smiled slightly at his defensive posture. "It wasn't classified or anything. We just didn't think it was big enough to warrant the whole team's efforts, although I suspect you feel otherwise now you've seen that footage."

"We're taking them out right Major?" It was Saito's turn to speak up. "There's no way we can let this carry on for even a second now we know about it!"

Frowning, Aramaki raised his hand and the excitement faded from the discussion. "We need to hold another briefing to nail out a plan. At this rate we'll run in there guns blazing and make it worse." He tapped his finger on the tabletop and continued, "They have hostages, or at least that's what those children will become once they know we're onto them."

There was then a silent discussion which passed between the Major and Aramaki, the slight flickering of their eyes the only sign that they were communicating at all. After a few moments, there was a consensus. The Major spoke up. "Pazu, Saito, as of now this is an active operation pending approval from the Prime Minister. We're moving on these guys before they have a chance to realise they've been found out. Grab your gear and meet me in the main hangar!"

"Yes Ma'am!" They both snapped to attention, before hurrying from the briefing room.

"They're strangely eager to get going aren't they." Aramaki observed.

"The footage riled them up a little. Don't worry Chief, they'll get their heads straight for the mission. And speaking of eager, what about Batou and Togusa? They'd want to be included in the prep-work, after all they _were_ the ones who found out about all this."

Chief Aramaki nodded. He had been reluctant to discuss this with her until the other members had left the room but now he spoke candidly. "This discovery has exacerbated Batou's mental state. There are similarities between this operation and a previous affair and if Batou becomes unhinged in the heat of the moment, I have no doubt he would overpower any control we chose to exert upon him. He looked straight at the Major. "I fear that even you Major, would have difficulty in calming him down."

"Is it that serious?," she said, her eyes widening slightly with surprise, "I knew that he'd been evaluated along with Togusa following their memory extraction but I assumed he would be here for this meeting. Where is he?"

"I sent him home. You can imagine what his response would have been had it been anything other than a direct order. Togusa, on the other hand, was more than willing to get home to his family."

There was another pause, during which the Major imagined Togusa at home with his wife and daughter. When he looked at his daughter's face, did he see the faces of those children? There was too much potential for further upset, not to mention Batou, who would be going home to no-one at all.

* * *

It was a perfect sphere. It glowed a bright blue, the colour of oceans, the colour of the sky. It was so highly polished that a great deal of care had to be taken while handling it, for a fall from any height would smash it to pieces. Inside this small, self-contained sea swam a fish. He didn't know what type of fish it was, only that it wasn't real. To the uninformed, it seemed as if a skilled fisherman had sealed his greatest catch inside a globe, leaving it to swim round and round in pursuit of its tail. In reality, it was a tiny mechanical creation, a work of precision art and engineering. The curved surface of the glassy ball acted as a lens, enlarging the tiny creature until it filled the ball. It was a perpetual motion machine. All it required was light to fill miniscule solar batteries. The fish would swim forever, as long as there was light.

Batou held the ball in his large hands. It wasn't exactly comforting to gaze into the shiny depths. For one thing, you couldn't see out the other side. At the same time, despite it being so polished, you could never see your own reflection. It was one of those objects which had the uncanny ability to appear both in its place and out of place at the exact same time. Batou knew what that felt like. He knew all too well. That wasn't the reason he stared at the fish though. He had often asked Motoko why she would risk diving into the sea with her heavy, cyborg body. She would shrug off his objections, saying that sometimes down there, in that darkness, she would feel hope.

Unlike her, he wasn't looking for anything in the water. The memories would flood back to him, not from the ball, but from the back of his mind. The ball had been a gift. It was one of the few things which Batou had bought on the spur of the moment. Much like Gabriel, the basset hound who was currently snoozing underneath his chair, he treated the ball as if it were a part of himself.

Batou leant further back in his reclining chair and gazed off into nowhere. _It had been a clear winter's day, one of those days where the air prickled the back of your throat and bit into your skin. He dropped his rifle and ran, slipping and stumbling over the icy ground to where she lay. It was a girl, no older than five or six years. She was half-naked, wearing a rough, sack-like material which had already frozen fast to her skin. It was as if she were made of ice, glass and crystal. There were snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes and her delicate, blonde hair was stiff with the cold._

Batou shifted in his seat. _How cold she had been! He had picked her up, cradling her. He had been scared that she would melt away in his arms, and for a moment he thought he felt her stirring, her thin white fingers feebly holding onto the sleeve of his jacket._

_"I HAVE ONE!" he had roared, scrambling towards the armoured patrol van. "She's still breathing!" He caught an operator android's attention. "Get her hooked up and on a stretcher NOW!"_

She had been an abductee, snatched from her orphanage by some crazed street-punk. Section Nine's involvement in the case had been accidental and the reports were handled by the regular police, yet Batou would often visit her in hospital, pressing his fingers to the glass window of her isolation room. She would see him standing there and smile, occasionally mustering the strength to wave at him with her damaged hand.

One day, he had been making his way to the hospital when he glimpsed something in a shop window. It was a glass ball. Stopping to examine it further, he saw that there was a fish swimming inside it. It seemed to be full of clear water and there was a warmth which radiated out from it. He had bought it instantly; the dealer had been half-gratified and half-petrified as the hulking man with artificial eyes loomed over him, before folding the dainty object in a bag. As he continued on his way, all Batou thought of was her face, and the prospect of seeing her smile made his own lips quirk in a grin.

He had never managed to give her his present. He had arrived at her ward to find her bed empty and freshly made-up. He enquired at the desk towards the end of the hall but the nurses shook their heads, saying that they weren't permitted to tell a stranger where she had gone.

Loneliness. Batou sat bolt upright, nearly dislodging the ball which had been resting idly in his lap. Setting it carefully aside, he swung his legs over the side of his chair and stopped for a moment. He remembered the faces of those children in the warehouse. They were just like she had been. He wasn't about to stay put while they suffered. They needed help and he would make sure that they got it.


	4. Chapter 04: Cross Fire

Bullets screamed across the narrow space, filling it with shrieking supersonic death. The gloomy underground chamber was illuminated by blinding flashes as high-velocity ammunition struck metal support beams; where they hit concrete pillars they blasted fist-sized craters, releasing billowing clouds of choking dust which swam before the eyes and stuck fast to the back of the throat.

Leaning out from behind a collapsed ceiling plate, Saito tried to make sense of the chaos. Behind him lay Borma. He was bleeding heavily; a bullet had punched through their cover and scored the side of his head, severing his ear and ripping his right prosthetic eye from its socket. The shock had almost killed him and he lay motionless, his chest rising and falling sporadically. Saito hissed as the dust cleared briefly. They were pinned down; dark figures were pressing in at them from the only doorway and they were slowly moving in for the kill. They looked like wraiths, all dressed in the same dull grey-black uniform and they faded in and out of view as the dust settled before being churned up again. Only Saito's sharpshooting had kept them at bay but he was running low on bullets, and when they ran out...

"Sai...to..." Borma's voice was cracked and full of pain. He tilted his bare head so that he could use his remaining eye, its tinted glassy surface flickered with the ongoing gunfire. "We're-"

"Save it," Saito snapped, "Don't speak unless you have to, we're going to get out of this, I promise!" He ejected a spent magazine and cast around for his final clip, slamming it into place and cocking the gun in less than a second, for every moment that his attention was away from the doorway was another step towards death. He could almost see the spectre gliding slowly towards them, following the lines of flame that scorched through the dank air. He shook himself and triggered a burst that pitched one of the figures backwards into a wall, blood exploding from a gaping hole in his chest. Now was not the time to be seeing things, unless it was the light of life leaving his enemies' faces.

"Yer'almost out." Borma gave a weak chuckle and his speech was slurred. The injuries were beginning to interfere with his head and what little movement he made looked drunken and clumsy. He had stopped flinching at the near misses. A bad sign.

Despite their impending doom, Saito flashed a grin. Or perhaps it was more of a grimace. "Plenty of rocks around if you want to help out!" This time it was Borma's turn to smile, but suddenly he convulsed, crying out and clutching at his stomach. Saito had been taking aim at another assailant and the noise made him glance down. "It's not that funny you know!," he yelled over the rattle of the gunfight, "Your sense of humour is-" He went cold. There was a wet patch on Borma's uniform. Blood from an unseen wound was staining the black fabric and oozing from beneath Borma's fingers.

"Shit! Borma NO!" He flung himself out from behind the plate and charged towards the shooters, his teeth bared in a savage snarl and his finger jammed down on the trigger, raking the last of his bullets over the doorway. He saw three go down, one in the neck, one in the head and the last was caught on the leg. The man screamed with pain and wildly aimed his weapon, toppling backwards on the debris-littered ground. Saito was almost on top of him when a single bullet erupted from the man's gun. Saito stared directly into the muzzle flash and knew there was no chance of escape. Time slowed to a standstill. He could have sworn that he saw the bullet, a dark blur clawing its way into the air like a hawk, the sunlight glinting on its feathers. Then there was a searing-hot pain, a force so great that he reversed momentum in mid-air. Time sped up again as Saito stumbled and fell. The bullet had caught him on his right shoulder and jarred the now empty weapon from his grip.

It was a melee. The injured man was still formidably strong and he crashed down onto Saito and began to pound with his enormous meaty fists. In a daze, Saito tried to fight him off, however his injured arm was uselessly flopping at his side and he could no more defend himself than play an instrument. Desperately, he flung his head fowards with a blow that snapped the man's face back. By good fortune, the cover for Saito's prosthetic eye had come loose and raked the large man's face. Reflex made the attacker reach up to feel the damage, which was when he committed suicide. The moment Saito's left arm was free, he used all of his remaining strength and jabbed, the mechanical components lending him an unnatural amount of power. His fingers hooked, he drove his hand into the man's eye socket. He felt a crunch as the orbit shattered, the bone splintering under the bullet-train pressure and then he felt... brain. The man died instantly, his nervous system spasmed one final time before his entire bulk collapsed back onto Saito.

No more men were coming.

He couldn't move. Fear, pain and shock pinned him to the floor, even more so than the weight of the man he'd just killed. Then he thought of Borma lying there, dying a few feet away. His limbs found a new strength, a new resolve. He had a promise to keep. Dragging himself to his knees, he crawled towards Borma. The floor was covered with shrapnel that cut into the soft skin of his hand and shredded his legs through his uniform. After an agonizing minute, he rounded the ceiling panel once more. Borma was lying in the same position, his hands now clasped firmly over his stomach. From what Saito could tell in the poor light, the blood was no longer freely flowing. He withdrew a thin packet from his thigh pocket. It was an artificial skin graft. Fast working micromachines would gather at the edges of the wound, forming a temporary patch that would, he prayed, halt any further bleeding. Borma let out a low moan as his wound was plugged, still in a great deal of pain but no longer in mortal danger.

Saito tucked his useless arm inside his jacket as a makeshift sling and strained to hook his shoulder under Borma's arm. They were still for a moment, like two legendary heroes frozen in an eternal embrace. Saito dug into the ground with his legs and heaved, lights flashing before his eyes as he slowly but surely hoisted Borma into a standing position. He was heavier than Saito expected but with a surge of sheer willpower and adrenaline, he began to slowly drag Borma towards the door and out, into the now deserted corridor.

* * *

Their plan had fallen to pieces. As the Major moved silently through a narrow hallway lined with bodies, she cursed the poor intelligence which they had used to plan the operation. It had sounded relatively straight-forward: One cell, made up of Saito and Borma, would enter the warehouse from the ground level entrance that Togusa had used only a day before. They were to go in under thermoptic camouflage and secure certain vantage points. Borma was under instructions to locate the internal communications and to sabotage it, while at the same time 'branching' key gang members to further aid the infiltration for the rest of the team. 

Or so they had hoped. The schematics they had used to plan their assault were out of date. The criminals had performed a massive refit and expanded downwards, adding corridors, storage rooms and power generators. They'd even established a closed-space network, inpenetrable from the outside, which enabled them to create a rudimentary hub-cyberbrain. No-one would ever be in any doubt about what anyone else was up to. There was no chance of miscommunication when they could read each other's thoughts in real time.

Sounds of gunfire echoed up the corridor behind her as Pazu and Ishikawa stayed behind to stem the tide of attackers, leaving the Major free to find the children. They were far too organised to be a simple child-trafficking ring, their movements were cohesive and they were truly in their own arena. She had no idea of Saito and Borma's location; the traffickers had erected a jamming net, rendering their cybercoms useless. Their 'stealth operation' had become an all-out firefight against a great many more opponents than Batou's reconnaisance had suggested. It was as if there was an entire battalion of criminals holed up underground!

Their initial attempt to rescue the kidnapped children had been thwarted; upon storming the 'marketplace' shown in Togusa's memories, they had been greeted with a lethal hail of bullets. It was a miracle that everyone had survived and had they not been using their thermoptics they would have been gunned down instantly. The Major herself had hacked a flunkie and turned his own weapon against his comrades, using the ensuing confusion to take cover. It had been a running fight, the narrow corridors were dark and that only made killing the Section Nine members easier.

She stopped listening to the shouts and the explosions and concentrated on the darkness ahead. Something was leading her on, a whisper in her ghost that was so powerful and insistant that she felt compelled to follow it. The encroaching darkness was stifling; the very air seemed thick with fear. Sounds began to bleed into nothingness and she was sorely tempted to use the spotlight on the end of her rifle, even though it would risk betraying her exact position. She cupped her hand over the lens and was about to flick it on when she heard a sound. It was the sound that someone made when they were trying their hardest to be silent. The skin on her face felt the close air stirring and she knew that there was someone ahead of her. Moving _away_ from her it seemed. Her mind began to race. Who was it? Someone trying to escape the fight? Or was it someone attempting to secure a deeper part of the facility?

_Yes..._

Her ghost whispered again. The silent blackness made her feel as if she were walking alongside herself, an extra set of eyes that could pierce the fog ahead. She could no longer see her own hands in front of her face. It was unnerving, as if the line between earth and the afterlife had merged, or as if she had died in her sleep and was walking the corridors as a spirit. Except there was no light to follow, no glimpse of another life, just a dark abyss of nothing. It may have been her imagination; she highly disapproved of sustained flights of fantasy, but she thought she heard children singing. Dancing in the dark.

The air stopped moving. She halted and crouched low to the floor, tensing her body, her hand on her firearm at the small of her back. She was an expert at tailing suspects, a skill that Batou was always quick to bemoan whenever she caught him doing something he shouldn't have. All of her skill was telling her that whoever she was following had not simply stopped. There was no shift in atmosphere, and although she strained her enhanced ears there was no audible breathing noise. They had vanished. There was no-one in the corridor anymore.

With a fluid grace which would have made a cat look awkward, she began to flow swiftly and smoothly, keeping as low as possible, her gun always trained on the shadows ahead of her. She traced her fingertips over the wall and was surprised to find the metal plating warm to the touch. There was heat bleeding out from somewhere and now as she continued onwards, the temperature began to rise. As she felt it peak, she also became aware of a dim luminescence; a tiny amount of murky blue light was seeping out of the air and looking ahead, she saw that the corridor had been interrupted by a sharp corner. It turned to the right. Moving along the wall towards it, her skin prickled, her ghost all but _screaming_ to her that someone was standing right around that corner. And that person knew she was there!

She turned the corner and fired.


End file.
